


On Sleepless Roads

by simplesetgo



Series: As Long as it Takes [2]
Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-19
Updated: 2011-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:59:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kahlan says goodbye, but it's not the end. Part 2 of 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Sleepless Roads

Slowly, days turn into weeks, and the weeks stretch into months. She is kept busy in Aydindril; the Mother Confessor lives up to her title, ever balancing harsh punishment with the gift of her mercy. But when stars roll across the sky above, she sheds her title with her white dress in the privacy of her chambers and dons a simple shift, darker in color. Kahlan walks the corridors almost nightly, passing silent guards and closed doors one after the other. She loses herself in the sputtering of torches and the sound of her feet on stone, and in weaker moments she lets herself imagine that a messenger is rushing to meet her around the corner. That she’ll hear she has a black-cloaked visitor in her chambers, otherwise unannounced. She’ll run back in a manner most unbecoming, throw open the doors, and hood will fall from head to reveal golden hair and piercing green eyes. Kahlan will admonish her, of course, for coming, but that’s if Cara lets her speak at all.

Gradually, such fantasies during her walks give way to more realistic concerns—worries inherent to her position. Her thoughts become filled with the rule of the Midlands, as they should be, until it seems she can think of little else. But when she slips between thin sheets late at night, she does so alone. Then, if at no other time, she remembers that Cara is in Her Place, and that Her Place is very far away.

Until, on a day like any other, Lord Richard Rahl of D’Hara informs her by journey book that he wishes to come visit. A mission of diplomacy, to be repeated yearly, with the added benefit of catching up with old friends. Kahlan repeats the words in her head over and over, ensuring that she doesn’t sound desperate, before she writes her response with a firm hand, questioning whether and which of his Mord-Sith will accompany him on such a perilous and lengthy journey.

****

Until Kahlan sees her, she thinks it might be prudent to avoid her after all. Because their reunion would be another promise neither could keep; because if Kahlan keeps herself apart they won’t have to say goodbye again. But when she stands from her throne, words of welcome leaving her throat in a clear voice to echo across the room, she cannot tear her gaze from the Mord-Sith standing proudly at the head of her quad and the side of her Lord.

****

Cara is conspicuously absent during dinner. It is all she can do not to accuse Richard of letting her think she is still more bodyguard than friend, but she soon realizes she will have trouble getting any words in at all. The Lord Rahl is having problems with his rule in D’Hara and is informing her in great detail of how he can’t trust anyone, how he’s being lied to left and right by his own court. Kahlan tries to lend careful ear and sympathetic counsel, but despite her best efforts her thoughts are firmly elsewhere.

****

She waits by her largest window, her back to the doors, watching the sun’s last rays fade from the sky. It has to be Cara’s choice—she can’t send for her or go looking for her. So she waits, and when her chambers are painted with the deep blue of dusk, she sighs and changes from her dress. It would be a night like any other, it seems, were it not for the powerful ache in her chest borne of knowing that Cara is near.

Kahlan lights a lamp, sits at her desk, and tends to matters of utmost importance. An hour passes and then another, both carefully spent reading and writing and concentrating on everything and nothing. It isn’t until Kahlan’s quill runs dry halfway through a signature that she rises, setting the pen down with more force than strictly necessary.

She makes up for it by gently drawing open her double doors to begin her nightly walk. They are nearly silent on their hinges, and when she steps through there is a dark figure huddled against the wall, asleep just outside the doorway. Her breath catches in her throat, but then she composes herself, her back sliding down cool stone as she sits beside her, legs crossed. Amazingly, it takes a firm shake of Cara’s shoulder to wake her.

“A year,” Kahlan says softly as the blonde starts. “I haven’t seen you or heard your voice in a year and I find you hiding outside my chambers.”

Cara blinks in the flickering torchlight, clearing her throat guiltily. “Your room isn’t guarded. I wasn’t…”

“I missed you,” Kahlan blurts out, and has to look away. It always makes Cara nervous when she cries. She gains control of herself, but then Cara’s hand is on her forearm, resting there in an attempt to offer comfort, and in that moment she is reminded that she belongs to Cara, that a simple touch from this woman can make a mess of her or give her strength.

“How are things, here?” Cara asks gently. It may be a clear attempt to steer spoken conversation toward safer ground, but when Kahlan reaches for her hand the blonde threads their fingers together tightly.

“Good,” Kahlan replies, offering a small smile. “Far better than D’Hara, as Richard tells me. He looks…older. His eyes are tired.”

“There’s a faction loyal to his brother that’s gaining strength,” Cara sighs. “The Mord-Sith have thwarted six assassination attempts in the past year—one got through. You should ask him about the scar on his back.” She frowns. “Or maybe you shouldn’t. He’s sensitive about that.”

Kahlan so missed Cara’s voice, the way she spoke with a subtle curve of her mouth more than with any words, and she stops just short of telling her as much. “Walk with me while we talk,” she suggests instead, pulling them both to their feet. “I usually do this alone.”

****

They’ve both run out of safer things to say by the time they come full circle, back in front of Kahlan’s bedchamber doors. Cara’s expression becomes guarded there, because this is the moment where they decide whether their reunion is that of friends or lovers. Whether they will embrace their familiar pain together.

Kahlan stands before her, hesitantly tugs on both her hands in silent request, and Cara doesn’t need to be asked twice. When they fall on the Mother Confessor’s bed together they are already entwined, and as Cara brushes her lips with her own, pulling such restraint from somewhere deep inside, Kahlan feels a hand cup the side of her face. It is shaking, barely, so Kahlan covers it with her own. Then she uses her body to tell her just how much she missed her. She learned that from Cara.

****

“I might take a mate,” Cara says, and Kahlan’s brow furrows in the dark. She shifts drowsily, but doesn’t try to break free of Cara’s embrace—if anything, she presses her back closer against Cara’s smooth skin and pulls lightly on the arm around her middle. “His name is Benjamin,” the blonde continues. “He’s been courting me for months, like a fool. I might…let him, when I get back. You would say he was a good man if you ever met him.”

Kahlan’s sleep-clouded mind finally realizes that her words are carrying meaning beyond familiar and comforting warm breath on the back of her neck, and she searches desperately for a reply. It is somewhat of a shock to remember that Cara has been living her own life in the year they were separated. Time did not stop for her as it seems to have done for Kahlan. “I’m glad,” she says finally. “I’m glad that you’re moving on. I took a mate as well.”

She winces as Cara’s arm tightens, almost imperceptibly, and immediately wishes she could take back her impulsive lie.

“I hadn’t heard,” Cara says. “So you are with child, then.”

“No. Not yet. I’ve only just…”

Kahlan is unprepared for the soft press of lips on her shoulder. It reminds her of the first time Cara ever gave her a chaste kiss on her temple—how it made her feel like she could take on the entire Dragon Corps and win.

“I will be glad for you when you are,” Cara says.

****

Richard and his retinue stay at Aydindril for three more days. Cara makes herself scarce while the Mother Confessor and Lord Rahl tend to matters of diplomacy, but when the sun goes down Kahlan finds her in or near her chambers, waiting for her.

They put off sleep together, walking empty halls under moonlight and speaking strictly of the past—if the present is painful, the future is unbearable. Regardless, Kahlan does not spend nights alone. It’s never a question of loyalty to mates real or imagined. She and Cara turn the sheets sweaty together, and in the mornings they simply don’t speak of it.

****

Standing at the head of the courtyard under clear sky and cold sun, hands folded and head high, the Mother Confessor presides over the departure of her guests. Her lips yet tingle with the strength of Cara’s kiss mere moments before, but the blonde does not look at her from her saddle. Kahlan is thankful for that much—a lingering glance would haunt her over the next year, until she saw her again.

When they are gone, she steps back inside a Palace that is far too big for one person, and she begins to do exactly what Cara made her swear she wouldn’t. She begins to wait.


End file.
